


Two Roaring Handfuls (and a bit more)

by tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [41]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis Size, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Size Kink, big dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 12:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Everyone seems to know that Tony Stark has a huge dick (even if the angle is bad in that one video.) Bucky would like some independent verification of this fact.





	Two Roaring Handfuls (and a bit more)

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is from an old bawdy song called Nine Inch will please a Lady

****“Seriously, Stark,” Clint said, staring at the content, no longer knocking things over, giant goddamn bear that Tony’d corralled with several train cars. He’d brought in a dump truck loaded with local honey and then boxed the critter in. The bear didn’t seem currently inclined to go anywhere, and Strange was already on site trying to figure out of it was a bear that had been magicked, or maybe teleported. “We all already know you got like, massive big dick energy, you don’t have to hose down the deck with testosterone.”

Bucky peeled his eyes off Tony’s backside to blink in confusion. “We do? I mean, yeah, of course we do,” he said. “Wait, how do _you_ know?”

Tony had popped back his faceplate, revealing tangled hair plastered over his forehead, a cut just under one eye that had dribbled blood down his cheek, and a grin as wide as a dinner plate. “Everybody who wants to can google it,” Tony said, dropping lightly onto the ground. “And to be fair, the angle’s bad in that video.”

“Figures,” Clint said, clutching at his heart in mock dismay. “I always knew ten inches was too much to hope for.”

Tony tipped his eyes up, not quite exasperated, but like there was something he wasn’t saying. “I’m no Jonah Falcon,” he said, “but I do okay.”

“His is completely non-verified,” Tash added.

“It’s on record as being thirteen and a half inches,” Clint protested.

“Why are we talking about this?” Cap wondered. “Can we not just, once, maybe, do our jobs and not end up in a metaphorical or literal conversation about dick size.”

Bucky stared at Tony, as if he could spontaneously develop x-ray vision. “No, no, I don’t think we can, Cap.”

Tony smirked, thrusting his hip out to stand with a certain amount of sensual energy. “I’m always _up_ for some independent verification.”

“No puns,” Steve sighed. He threw his hands up, and then strode off to talk to Strange, who, as a medical professional, tended to discuss misplaced entrails and exsanguination and bodily fluids, rather than getting naked. Which, Bucky supposed, was an improvement for Steve, who still blushed like a choir boy.

“ _All_ the puns,” Tony said, pouting. “You are no fun, Capsicle.”

“He’s just scared of your Subway footlong,” Clint said.

“Huh?” Bucky whirled around. “I thought you said it was ten, not twelve.”

“Well, Subway’s footlong isn’t twelve inches either,” Clint pointed out.

“Hey, if we’re talking about sausages, I have got the meat,” Tony said.

“We’re not talking about this,” Steve yelled over his shoulder.

Which did, at least for the moment, put an end to it. At least in the outloud, the in public, and the speculative ranges. What Bucky did in his own time, including trying to trace an outline while Tony was in the underflight suit, that was Bucky’s own business, wasn’t it?

It took Bucky all of three days resisting until he was in a cafe, with a burner phone, connected incognito to the internet and trying to google the video that Clint had mentioned.

It _was_ a bad angle.

And blurry.

What the hell had the girl shot it wit, a flip phone, for fuck’s sake?

He did find one picture of a girl, who was claiming to have been with Tony, demonstrating length and width using her fingers and a pencil.

She had an impressive span; concert pianist sort of long fingers. Bucky sat back in the chair, took another slug of coffee, and considered it.

God, he was being creepy.

Couldn’t help it.

“You know, you could just ask him,” Tash said, sitting down next to him, like he was expecting her.

He wasn’t -- he practically jumped out of his skin and knocked his coffee over, which would have been bad.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky said, gasping for air. “Do not _do_ that, did you just fuckin’ materialize out of thin air?”

“Baseball hats and sunglasses are not a disguise, James,” she said. “You just look like you at a baseball game.”

“I cannot jus’ _ask_ Tony if he’s got a huge dick,” Bucky said, and then lowered his voice hastily as the college girl tapping at her computer and pretending to do her history (but was really scrolling through tumblr and reading fic) gave him a sharp glance.

“Why not?” Tash was leaning in, giving him that I-am-honestly-curious-about-your-reasons face. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Well, there were a bushel basket of things he didn’t want to think about, right there.

“Look, I know Tony,” Tash said. “The most likely answer that’s gonna happen is he’ll whip it out and you can take a look-see.”

Bucky almost inhaled his coffee. “You are a _menace_ ,” he said, coughing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “And I’m not _twelve_ , I don’t wanna play doctor with the man.”

“So, this is more than just a purely aesthetic curiosity,” Tash mused. “Interesting. Well, if you want to ride him like a mechanical bull, you can probably get away with just asking him that, too. Tony’s relatively easy. He likes very enthusiastic consent, and he’s a little on the subby side. He’s got a good game face for the _love-em and leave-em_ routine, so he’s not likely to get too clingy, either.”

“Oh, my god, _will you shut up_?” Bucky hissed at her.

Tash swished the ice around in her iced coffee latte soy, extra whip bullshit that she preferred to drink. “Probably not,” she said. “So, if you don’t want to just get in a peek, and you don’t want to take Tony’s stick for a test drive--”

“Never said that,” Bucky muttered into the bottom of his coffee mug.

“So, you do want to sex him up,” Tash said. Bucky was pretty sure his ears were not going to stop burning any time soon.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky admitted. “I mean, have you _seen_ him?”

“But?” Tash stretched the word out obscenely.

“But, what?” Bucky asked. “But I like him, okay, I mean, he’s more that just that, but that… I mean, have you seen this video?” Tony was brave and smart, clever and sarcastic, funny as hell, loyal as they came. He was complicated and wonderful and terrifying, all wrapped up on one very shapely package. And yeah, okay, the fact that he was rumored to have won the big dick lottery sounded very appealing to Bucky, who loved the burn and stretch more than anything else in his sex life. (What sex life? Ha. He’d gotten laid exactly three times in the last two years, and none of them were particularly memorable.)

“Yes,” Tash said. “The angle’s bad.”

“Yeah, Clint said.”

“No, I mean, it’s really bad,” Tash reported. “I’ve seen it; he’s a good two inches longer than the video shows.”

Bucky coughed, inhaling nothing at all except imaginary dust. “ _What_?”

“You like him,” Tash said. “So ask him out.”

“What if he says no?”

Tash shrugged one shoulder. “Then you’re no worse off than you are now. Trust me on this, Tony is not going to act weird, or tease, or bring it up, or avoid you. If he doesn’t want you, you’ll know, and everything will go right back to the way it was. You’ll feel a little hurt and awkward for a while, but he’s really good at rejection, he’s learned all the right ways to give it out, when he has to. Tony’s kind. He really is.”

“How do you know?”

Tash raised an eyebrow. “I was supposed to honeypot him,” she said, simply. “He didn’t want me.”

“If he didn’t want you, he’s sure as hell not gonna want me,” Bucky said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Tash said, and sucked the last of her coffee out through the straw. Noisily. “You should ask.”

In the end, he supposed he only garnered enough courage to ask because Tash kept making not-particularly-subtle hints near Tony that Bucky was interested. And while Tony didn’t pick up on them, Clint did. Which meant that whenever Bucky was standing near both Tony and Clint, Clint was making a wide variety of obscene gestures, indicating Tony’s supposed length, girth, stamina, and apparently, ability to deepthroat a goddamn banana.

Apparently the choice, when it came to having a semi-obvious crush and a ridiculous obsession, and, to be quite fair, a deep seated need to get a cock that big somewhere in the vicinity of Bucky’s mouth, hands, and ass, was to either go down in one glorious display of flames, or die a death of a million mocking paper cuts.

Not much of a choice, really.

And because Bucky Barnes wasn’t a fool, even if he was sometimes a coward, he went ahead and decided to get it over with publically. Because if he was going to crash and burn, he was going to be damned sure that Clint and Tash got a whole lot of guilt and shame to go along with it.

It also meant that he couldn’t back out, once he started.

He’d expected Tony to either smile and gently turn him down (best possible solution) or even say yes and let him down easy later (slightly less good, because it might have taught him to hope) or laugh and reject him out of hand (very bad.)

What he did not expect was Tony to splutter at his suggestion -- that they go catch drinks and some dancing together -- and then whirl on Tash with an upraised finger. “Did… did she… did you put him up to this?”

Tash gave a little half shrug, her mouth showing nothing. “I suppose that depends on your definitions.”

Tony’s mouth wobbled, and he turned on his heel with a sharp nod. “Right, then, I don’t need to stick around for this.”

Bucky was stuck for a moment, then-- “Go after him, you idiot,” Tash snarled.

Bucky flipped her off; this was at least half as much her fault as his, with a good twenty percent left over for Clint. Bucky was pretty sure his math was bad, but that was what he got for taking a calculated risk.

“Tony, hey, would you wait up?” Bucky was pretty sure Tony was giving him the opportunity, because otherwise he’d have tapped up his suit and flown away. He certainly wouldn’t have given Bucky a chance to explain, or apologize or--

“What, Barnes?” Tony snapped, turning, and oh, god, Bucky was going to hell, he was totally going to hell, because angry Tony was probably the second best look on him, right after completely charmed Tony, which Bucky only got to see a few times because Tony guarded those precious moments fiercely and often covered them up with sarcasm and a cheesy one liner.

“I wasn’t kiddin’,” Bucky said, “or, you know, teasin’, no matter what you think Tash mighta put me up to. I really--”

“Want your independent verification,” Tony snapped. “The joke’s been going on long enough, I’m done.”

“Tony, no, hey,” Bucky said, and he reached out, circled his hand loosely over Tony’s bicep. “Ain’t like that. I-- well, okay, so it’s a little bit like that, because I can’t jus’ hear somethin’ like that and now… but I liked you before they ever said anythin’ about it. Jus’... didn’t want to ruin bein’ friends by asking you out. What if you said no?”

“What if I said yes?”

“Sometimes that’s a bit scarier,” Bucky admitted. “Schrodinger’s date. Before it happens, it could be great, and it could be terrible. And I won’t know, for sure, until it’s done.”

“Do not use science references to butter me up,” Tony said, and he was trying to be stern, but his mouth was doing that little quiver thing like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Particularly not _bad_ and completely _inaccurate_ science references.”

“C’mon, doll,” Bucky said, putting a little bit of imploring in his tone, a wheedling persuasion, letting his eyes widen. “Gimme a chance?”

“Is this, like, a real date, or just a precursor to getting in my pants?” Tony asked, eyebrow going up. “Because, you know, I’m kind of bad at this whole mixed signals thing you’re doing, and I just… want to brace myself if it’s the latter.”

“Doll,” Bucky said, and he moved in closer, putting one arm around Tony’s waist and tugging him in, just a little. “I _absolutely_ want to get into your pants. But--” He let go and Tony staggered back awkwardly, “--not at the expense of everythin’ else. I like you Tony. But I ain’t gonna lie and try to pretend that I don’t find you amazin’ly sexy, because I do that, too.”

“So, in essence, and correct me if I’m summing things up wrong, you like me, personally, and you think I’m attractive. And you want to do to drinks and dancing, and then, possibly, have crazy monkey sex?”

Bucky couldn’t help it, he laughed and ducked his chin, looking up at Tony through the fringe of his eyelashes. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Okay,” Tony said.

“Okay? Just like that, okay?”

“Okay. Just like that.”

***

“I think seven is plenty,” Tony said, with a tone of belligerence. He scowled at Bucky’s armful of flowers -- tulips in iron man colors with a simple black and silver ribbon holding them together -- like it had personally offended him.

“Seven… tulips?” Bucky asked, feeling his eyebrow go up.

“Dates. Seven _dates_ , Bucko, try to keep up,” Tony said. “You’re officially allowed to make a move after three.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to,” Bucky said, and while he was still hesitating, Tony grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the penthouse, shutting the door behind him. “Tony, this… this is enough, if that’s all you want, I don’t--”

“Shhhh,” Tony said, putting one finger on Bucky’s lip, which effectively stilled Bucky’s mouth. “Okay, so, you know, maybe this is my fault. I have this ridiculously long list of character flaws, including the fact that I’m a plain vanilla mortal, man in a can and getting older every year, and look every minute of it. Egotistical, arrogant, self-destructive. You have to admit that it seems really odd for you to want to date me, so you can’t blame me for thinking you were putting me on--”

Okay, Bucky wasn’t going to tolerate that. He brushed Tony’s hand off his mouth, but twined their fingers together. “Look, that’s my fella you’re bad mouthing, so knock it off.”

“Your fella?” Tony asked.

“Didja not know that?” Bucky put the flowers down in a colorful spill on a nearby table. “I said it before. I _like_ you. I’m willin’ to put in whatever time an’ effort that takes to get you t’ believe it.”

“You could at least try to kiss me,” Tony said, and he was pouting.

Bucky could see golden streaks in Tony’s whiskey eyes, the soft olive glow to his skin, the way his hair fell across his forehead, a sweet tangle of strands that made Bucky’s fingers itch to thread into it. The way that full mouth begged to be touched, the way his cheek seemed to be made to fit the curve of Bucky’s palm.

Nothing in the world existed but Tony.

And maybe it was Tony who moved first, who swayed into a kiss as inevitable as the tides, holding Bucky’s gaze, drawing him in like he was a kite on a string. Or maybe it was Bucky who leaned in, his want and need finally conquering all his good sense, his determination that it would be Tony who took this thing to the next level, and Bucky could wait, because he was a sniper, damnit, and waiting for the right moment was everything he did. Either way, it hardly mattered, because one moment, they were two people teetering on the edge of something, and the next minute Tony’s lips were on Bucky’s and they were kissing frantically.

Teeth scraped and tongues met and danced together. Bucky tasted the inside of Tony’s mouth, and it was sweet and dark. Tony’s mouth claimed him, greedy and eager, and Bucky found himself pushed up against the door; Tony was stronger than he looked and Bucky didn’t know why that surprised him, but it did. Surprised and delighted, and Bucky surrendered wholeheartedly. They kissed like the levees coming down, rushed over by a tumble of previously restrained wanting. They kissed and kissed, Tony’s thigh between Bucky’s legs and a heavy, hard, _huge_ length pressed against him.

Bucky’s hand twined in Tony’s hair, pulled his even closer. Bit at that plush, lower lip. Ardent, impatient noises were coming out of Tony’s throat.

Finally, Tony pulled back, his lip red and swollen, heaving ragged breaths, staring. Those beautiful brown eyes were pupil blown and lidded with desire. Tony was the most goddamn beautiful thing that Bucky had ever seen.

“No one puts up with me for seven dates if all they want is the D,” Tony murmured. “Hell, half of them don’t put up with one whole date. You’re either a saint, or insane.”

“Or, maybe, I just like you,” Bucky said. “You know, you. Crazy, quirky, clever… it’s gonna be all right, Tony.”

“You’re considering a relationship with me,” Tony said, slowly, like it didn’t make sense to him. Like feelings were math and it didn’t add up. “Nothing is every going to be all right again.”

“I’m not considering a relationship with you, Tony. I’m _in_ a relationship with you. I don’t know why people get so crazy about having exact labels; this many dates and you can screw, that many dates before you can tell someone you love them. It’s not a numbers game, baby. If I care about you, I care, and how many dates, or what we’ve done on them, that don’t change anything. I like you, and I will continue to do that,” Bucky told him.

“I am going to kiss you,” Tony’s voice was hoarse, a trickle of bourbon over rocks, hands going up to cup Bucky’s face. “And you’re going to know it was me, kissing you. Burn it into your memory so deep you’re never going to get it out. And then I’m going to take you back into my bedroom and fuck you. Is this a plan you’re onboard with?”

Bucky let his mouth tip into a relieved smile. “Oh, yeah.”

When they kissed that time, slow and smooth, a gentle exploration, Bucky did feel it. All the way to the balls of his feet and the way his scalp tingled, and everyplace in between. This was Tony, this was his Tony, and he was going to have this, he _could_ have it.

There was something deep and rich in Tony’s eyes when he pulled back, the way his fingers traced over Bucky’s face, the way he was looking at Bucky, as if Bucky wasn’t some broken, dangerous, but useful thing. Not a tool for a fight, not a reluctant ally, but something worthy. Bucky would have leveled small countries for that look and know he never, ever deserved it.

“I want you to fuck me,” Bucky admitted.

Clothes were seriously annoying, Bucky decided, but he got to unwrap Tony Stark like a fucking package, so there was that. The man was gorgeous, responsive, shivering under every touch, arching into the brush of Bucky’s thumb across his nipple. The muscles in his stomach jerked and twitched; he sucked air as Bucky bent down to press a kiss just to one side of his navel, working open Tony’s belt.

“Your mouth is going to drive me out of my mind,” Tony declared. Bucky didn’t bother to answer that, just dropped Tony’s pants around his thighs. Tony was hard as a rock, the head poking out the top of his boxers. _Jesus_. He flicked his tongue out and tasted that little triangle just under the head, where the bundle of nerves met. Tony’s hands were in his hair, tugging lightly and pushing and pulling, obviously needy, but not wanting to push too hard, or too fast. Bucky jerked the boxers down to get his first actual look at it.

Oh, god. As long as Bucky was on his knees, he might as well fucking _pray_.

Christ, it was _huge_ , thick. Curved off to the left and jutting out proud. The head was plump and broad. Bucky leaned in, hands going to Tony’s hips and opened his mouth to get a taste. His mouth stretched around it, taking as much as he could until the head was brushing against the back of his throat. Bucky choked, pulled back, eyes watering.

Smooth, Barnes.

“You don’t have to--”

“Shut up, Tony,” Bucky told him. “I ain’t done with you yet.” There was no way he was going to be able to take all of it, not in his mouth, but he licked around Tony’s length, getting him wet with spit, and adding a hand curled around the base controlled the depth. Bucky knew from experience that hot, wet, and tight were the only things that mattered, and he could take two handfuls of Tony and get him off, if he needed to.

“Or, you know, you could keep doing that,” Tony murmured, his hand in Bucky’s hair, pulling and using it for balance.   

There wasn’t a better answer than to just keep doing it, stroking him one-handed, with a little twist, and bobbing his head up and down, tongue writhing against the ridge with delicate little flicks. The noises Tony made came from deep in his gut, throaty -- appropriate, Bucky thought -- and sensual.

Tony was heavy and hot against Bucky’s tongue, and his jaw ached from dropping it open so far, but he couldn’t have stopped for anything, lips stretched wide and obscene. Bucky could have done it forever, stayed right there on his knees and fucked Tony with his mouth, hand filling in the gaps that his mouth couldn’t take. One hand on that glorious ass, keeping Tony close.

“Yeah, you keep doing that, and I’m going to come all over your face,” Tony told him.

Bucky choked again, pulled back. “Kinda the damn point, Tony.”

“You are some kind of crazy sex god, Bucky, and I am here to worship,” Tony said, then added, “but, I am pushing fifty and… I want you to-- you know. Enjoy it.”

Bucky could feel his eyes getting huge and round. “Do you think I am not _enjoying_ this? Jesus, Tony, I could suck your dick from now ‘til Christmas and not get enough.” It was frustrating as hell, the number of self esteem issues and complexes that Tony had; it made him want to find every asshole who’d ever hurt Tony and beat them down. It made him want to lay Tony back on a bed of rose petals and make love to him so well that he forgot his own damn name.

The second one seemed a little more likely, and Tony was really starting to look anxious. “We can take it to the bedroom, an’ you can get me ready.”

Bucky watched as Tony went through a script for a movie that they weren’t in, trying to find the lines that made sense, a response that was appropriate and fit Tony’s idea of who he was. Rather than letting Tony’s brain get going again, twist itself up into some impossible knot of a place where Tony thought he wasn’t good enough, Bucky took a deep breath and thrust down on Tony’s dick, ignoring his gag reflex, ignoring the brief deep-animal panic that flared when he cut off his own windpipe. He still didn’t make it all the way to the base, but it was a _lot_.

Tony was a goddamn big boy, and Bucky couldn’t wait to have it in him, all the way in. He groaned around his mouthful and a half, and Tony arched up, hands curling up into fists as if he could hold back an orgasm by will alone.

He yanked back and out and Bucky coughed, panting harshly for breath.

“Bedroom, then,” Tony ordered, and that was more like it.

Stripping out of his clothes on the way, Bucky followed Tony back to a big, open space, white and clean and almost impersonal, except it was a space that had Tony in it. Bucky crawled onto the bed and presented, spreading his thighs and curving his back to let Tony get a look at him. Eager, too eager to care that he _looked_ eager.

Tony touched him, ran exploratory hands over Bucky’s back, traced the line of his spine all the way to the base, which made Bucky whine and push down so his ass was even higher, presenting a tempting target (he hoped). Stroked Bucky’s hips, down his thighs. “Look at you,” Tony said, and Bucky twisted to look over his shoulder. Tony was biting his lip and just staring, like Bucky was something precious and rare and wild and feral.

Like he might bolt at any second.

Bucky rolled all the way over, lifted his legs and wrapped them around Tony’s hips, locking his ankles and pulling Tony onto the bed with him, kissing him frantic and fervid. _Not leaving you, not scared, I can take what you got, baby, don’t worry._

Tony fumbled around in the bed stand, brought out a bottle of lube. “Yeah, okay, I got this,” Tony said, like he needed to be reassured. Bucky spread his thighs wide and tried hard not to think about how stupid his needy-wanting face looked, hoping Tony would see it for what it was.

One finger slid down Bucky’s cock, which jumped eagerly at the touch. A surge of wanting swept over him, and he arched up into it, practically lifting his ass off the bed to follow that sweet, teasing touch.

“God, you’re responsive,” Tony murmured, and his finger kept moving, until, slick with lube, he was pressing at Bucky’s entrance.

Bucky could lose himself in it, the roll of his hips, the way Tony was pushing into him, the slick feel of lube and skin, the burn and stretch. He spread his legs as wide as he could, opening his hips, bringing his knees up. He watched Tony, the minute expressions across that gorgeous, mobile face. The way Tony kept flicking his gaze between Bucky’s face and what he was doing between Bucky’s legs. Checking in. Wanting Bucky to feel good, wanting it as much, maybe even more, than Bucky wanted to feel good.

“Ain’t glass, Tony,” Bucky told him, grating his teeth together to keep from throwing his head back and moaning like a slut. “Give it to me.”

Tony curled his fingers, deep inside and Bucky all but screamed, the push and pressure so sweet. Stimulated and eager, he ground down on Tony’s fingers, aching for it. His whole body electrified and jittery.

“Love listening to you,” Tony said, moving his finger with infinite patience. “I am invested, _deeply_ invested, in hearing what other noises you might make.”

Bucky reached up, grabbed the back of Tony’s neck and brought him in for a bruising, powerful kiss. “Fuck me, Tony, please, do it now.” Tony opened his mouth and Bucky kissed him again. “Don’t argue with me, Tony, just…” _Gimme, gimme, gimme_ , some monkey-brain, instinct-driven part of his brain was babbling frantically.

Tony groaned, pushed his cock against Bucky’s hole. So tentative and light, Bucky was gasping with frustrated need, writhing up on Tony’s thighs like he could literally screw himself onto Tony’s dick. Tony slipped in, and then out again, just giving Bucky the tip.

“Oh, god,” Tony groaned, and pushed in another inch or so.

“Come on, come on,” Bucky whined. “It’s a dick, not a sledgehammer. Just fuckin’ do it.”

For about ten seconds, as Tony gripped his hips and pushed in with unrelenting demand, Bucky had cause to regret that. He felt like he was being split in half, lit on fire, and stretched on a rack all at once.

Bucky opened one eye and saw the look of extreme concentration on Tony’s face, and everything inside him unlocked and loosened up and accepted rather than fighting it.

Tony moved then, quick, heavy strokes building up to a crescendo, a flurry as Bucky matched his motions. Tony moaned his name, and Bucky gripped the sheets for balance. The bed made some sort of protesting noise before the headboard banged against the wall in a nice counterpoint to the shifting, rocking, slick movement between them. Tony bit Bucky’s neck, and Bucky returned the favor by dotting hickies across Tony’s collarbone.

Bucky’d never quite felt so full before, so thick and stretched with it, burning with each motion, in the best way. Tony wasn’t letting up, either, riding him hard. His hands pulled on Bucky’s shoulders, as if he could literally melt into Bucky and join him completely. Bucky’s thighs quivered with the effort, and he clenched each time Tony came close to pulling out entirely, wanting to keep them together, force him even deeper inside.

Those breathless little sounds Tony made belonged to Bucky. Bucky had done this, had made Tony sound wrecked, look destroyed, feel so, so good.

Bucky’s head fell back and he lost track of everything else. Soaked in need, dripping sweat, and he got a hand down on himself, frantically cranking his dick in time with Tony’s plough. “Oh, god, so good, Tony, baby, oh, my god.”

White heat passed behind his trembling eyelids, practically launched out of his body on a wave of pleasure. Everything came apart in shuddering gasps and Bucky _squeezed_. Pleasure so great as to be overwhelming rushed through him, and from him, to Tony, who was slamming in with abandon.

Bucky panted for air, as Tony’s weight came down on him. He was tangled up in Tony’s limbs, clinging to each other and exchanging breathless, sloppy kisses.

Tony’s fingers slid over Bucky’s shoulders and arm, petting him, and Bucky’s inner cat was content and purring. Tony was relaxing with every breath, unwinding. It was hard to remember how rigid and tense Tony was all the time until Bucky saw him let just a little of it go. And this wasn’t just a little. Tony hitched another breath and let go. He looked ten years younger, his smile easy and sweet, eyes unguarded and vulnerable, and it was beautiful. Bucky had to close his eyes against it, it was like staring into the sun.

When Tony pulled out, Bucky’s body clenched down around that horrible emptiness and he had to bite down on a disappointed mewl. But then Tony was worming around and cuddling up against Bucky’s side, and that was okay, filled up his empty heart.

Tony was just… incredible.

Bucky leaned up on one elbow to look at him. “You are incredible,” he said.

“You’re just saying that because I have a huge tool,” Tony said, and it wasn’t quite a joke.

“No,” Bucky said. “You’re incredible. And you have a big dick. It’s not like the one outdoes the other.”

“That’s not usually how people see it,” Tony admitted.

“Yeah, well, other people are stupid,” Bucky said. “And _you_ are incredible. The big dick part’s just icing on the cake, Tony. Deal with it.”

“Asshole,” Tony said, “you’re supposed to indulge my fits of insecurity if we’re dating.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t read that in the agreement,” Bucky said. “I think I’ll need my union rep at the table.”

“Ug,” Tony said. “I knew you were trouble.”

“Trouble’s my middle name,” Bucky confirmed.

“Seems I heard that somewhere before,” Tony agreed. “Okay. Union rep. Actually talking about the feelings and stuff. I can do that.” He yawned heroically. “Later?”

“After a nap,” Bucky agreed. He was pleasantly sore and his insides were still sparking nerves. He wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him in.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today, I fell in love._

Bucky snorted at his own thoughts, kissed Tony’s hair, and let himself drift off to sleep.


End file.
